(Rebecca's POV)
The go-kart track smells like rubber and burnt sugar.
Jack is strapped into kart seventeen, helmet too big, eyes wide behind the plastic visor. The attendant checks his buckle twice and gives me the look — the one that says your kid, your liability.
I'm in kart eighteen. My helmet fits.
"Ready?" I call across the gap.
Jack nods. His hands grip the wheel.
The light goes green.
I win by four seconds.
Not because I let him catch up. Not because I eased off the final turn. I win because I cannot lose at anything, even something with a height requirement and a laminated rulebook.
Jack climbs out of his kart grinning.
"You DESTROYED me."
"I did."
"Like. COMPLETELY destroyed me."
"Yep."
He pulls off his helmet. His hair stands up in every direction. "Can we go again?
